


where the old year passes by

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Extra Treat, F/M, Kanan Jarrus Lives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Zeb, Kallus, Kanan, and Hera go on an undercover mission together.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56
Collections: Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!





	where the old year passes by

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).



The Festival of Suns is a brilliant cavalcade of lights, food, drink, and most importantly, costumes. The citizens of Lonfos spend the weeks leading up to the festival decorating their homes with dried gourds and the reassembled bones of their last several meals, celebrating the darkness of the year while frightening evil spirits away. It is in the midst of this gay revelry that they are making contact with a spy who has valuable intel to hand off, and the spy intends to hand it off to the highest ranking member of the Rebellion he can. Kallus is here to identify their spy, and Hera is here to take the message. Kanan and Zeb have joined them because they agree this setup has "TRAP" written all over it. 

Kallus isn't so new to undercover work that he makes a single concerned glance to his companions, but he does heave an internal sigh. Yes, Sabine has a different assignment to worry about right now, and Ezra already made plans with Skywalker to pore over a new Jedi scroll the latter found while they watch Jacen. He supposes humans won't necessarily blend in better for this particular mission. Nevertheless, he would feel more confident in their chances of remaining undetected. The Empire holds Lonfos in a tight grip, with patrols everywhere, even during the biggest party of the year.

Their costumes blend in, even if they don't. Hera is wearing a rather fetching gown borrowed and altered from Princess Leia's private stores. There aren't many Twi'leks on this planet, and certainly far fewer wearing pretty dresses and glittering masks. Kanan has gone for a pirate's look, conveniently sourced from mismatched bits of apparel they found around the base. His own mask helpfully hides his scarred eyes. Kallus has gone for the distinguished look of a pretend dignitary, which he feels is somewhat tarnished by the silvery paper crown Sabine fashioned and insisted he wear.

He does allow himself just one glance to the Lasat on his arm. Zeb can't readily disguise his species and instead is flaunting his unusual appearance: bright orange and green motley to offset his purple fur, and an enormous hat to match. Zeb has always been built on a bigger scale than a human, one of his many aspects which Kallus has come to appreciate. Ostensibly in disguise, he takes up far more space now, huge in personality, booming with laughter among the sparks from the bonfires marking the darkest night of the year.

It's a good look on him. If they weren't on a mission, weren't trying to blend in, Kallus would love nothing more than to grab his hand and pull him towards the music coming from half a block away, all strings and drums, reminders of the simple music of his own home world.

He's not the only one with that thought. Kanan says, "On our way out, we should go check out the band." He can't possibly see the complicated look Hera gives him in return. Even Kallus knows one doesn't simply ask a Twi'lek to dance. Or, he thinks, as her expression melts into tenderness, perhaps one can if one's been married to her for the past three years and has a child with her and spends all one's days convinced she hung the moon and the stars. Maybe then it's all right. Kallus wouldn't know. He's still sorting out what Lasat culture says he should ask, and when, and how.

To his surprise, Zeb tugs his arm. "Might be fun. What do you think?"

He thinks they're supposed to be undercover. He also thinks he remembers the steps to the dances he was taught as a boy, and the mental picture of teaching Zeb the same steps fills his stomach with warmth. "Let's meet our contact, and go see."

The food smells amazing. There are children running past through the streets, begging for sweets from friendly passersby. The music is nice and he's enjoying the prospect of a dance, perhaps two or three, with Zeb. He's spent much of his time since he joined the Rebellion feeling happy, something he never thought possible back in his old life.

"Agent Kallus?"

He stops, cold, all his spycraft training about not reacting to his own name forgotten as his head turns to see Lt. Ayers standing not a meter away from him, mouth open. Before he can react, Ayers says, "I heard you joined the Rebels!" There is just enough venom in the words to assure Kallus that Ayers isn't planning to sign up, too.

Unfortunately, Lt. Ayers isn't alone, either.

And then it's all blasters and lightsabers and mad dashes through a city he doesn't know. They run into their contact by accident, and they all nearly die several times. He used to curse the Spectres' luck. Now he flinches from a blaster bolt Kanan turns away with the Force, and he's glad that luck covers him, too. Hera won't be returning the gown to the Princess in any kind of shape to be worn again but she does have her intel gripped in her hand as they run towards the _Phantom_. They're alive. That's what matters most.

Well. Perhaps he can ask Zeb to dance another time. His imagination provides him the pleasant image of Zeb learning to dance without the bright motley, nor wearing anything else except the silly silvery crown that has somehow not fallen off his own head. Kallus smiles to himself at the thought as Hera fires the engines, pulling them away from danger and into the darkened sky.


End file.
